There were four restaurants on the gambling ship, all presided over by Michelin-starred chefs, where one could taste mainstream international cuisine from around the world.
Perhaps it was intentional or not, but the breakfast prepared by Fujiwara Rika had the flavor of simple daily life, and Xiao Ming didn't mind, even generously offering his praise.
Especially for a simple bowl of miso soup, which he complimented several times. Ding Jianwei, while drinking it, thought it was just relatively more savory and didn't find anything special about it, so he curiously asked where its goodness lay.
Xiao Ming glanced at the surveillance camera on the ceiling, his smile mysterious, "It's no surprise you can't taste it; this soup was made specifically for me, filled with deep love that only I can taste."
Ding Jianwei thought he was spouting nonsense again and cursed him as crazy before going silent.